Thank Gosh it's Flashing! (Oh my, he never uses exclamation points! He's probably Dying!) in Normal entries

There is a very good reason for me not to write a flash today, Friday, the day that has come to mean, well, Friday, as in Thank God It’s Flash! There’s a very good reason not to edit or even to read this (for me, well, for you too but you’ve begun anyhow, haven’t you? Probably not even wearing a helmet, tsk, tsk and pshaw). I went to the eye doctor today (no, not the optometrist, under that name he isn’t covered by my insurance, as a medical exam he is, that was the recptionists idea) and got numbed and dilated. Not all over, just in the eyeballs. I only went for one, but since it was covered by insurance I had them both examined. That’s a little joke; really little.

I made an even smaller joke to the technician when she declared there wasn’t any major problem with my left eye. I said “Oh, it’s probably just a brain tumor then.” She laughed so hard I was scared. I pleaded “I was joking”. She laughed a little more and said “Good one.”

I learned something today about — wait, so, I can’t really read the screen, I’m looking at the keyboard, I almost did this on the phone with google speak but the day has already had all the hilarity I can stand — migraines. One hears a lot about migraines. People who suffer from them make them sound like an event between earthquakes and active volcano’s. Um, people who suffer from migraine headaches and who volunteer to talk about them. That’s what I learned, simple but always overshadowed by earthquakes and volcanos; migraines are a cluster of symptoms that don’t necessarily end or progress towards a headache. Sort of like the way schizophrenia is always some assumption of multiple personality disorder. Schizophrenia is a generic term for a variety of fucked-in-the-head, a very small number of which involve even a singular personality except as a coincidence.

Wow, I’m really glad I can’t read this happy horseshit, I’d be embarrassed if 1) I evewr read this horseshit and 2) if I hadn’t broken my embarrassment bone somewhere between my first drink and the nude photo spread.

It’s a little disturbing to have an earnest, handsome (I assume, my eyeballs were froze and dilated) doctor with that TV doctor voice (rich and lush and rarely used by anyone but actors) explain to you how his migraines start as a kaleidoscope in the center of his vision and broaden out lasting for twenty minutes every single time. Disturbing? Homo Erotica? No, well, maybe for you. For me it was the questions I didn’t ask but still haunt me (almost a full six hours later) like 1) Is it happening now? 2) When it happens when driving do you pull over or just turn up the music? 3) Are you shitting me? 4) various combinations of the first three, e.g. Is shit happening? Turn up the music!

I mean it’s a bit like a sales manager taking off his skin and revealing the Easter Bunny underneath and telling you that Sales Managers don’t exist you silly silly egg. And yes, I have a high threshold for non sequitur’s and oversharing and weird shit in general, but it’s rare that an optometrist tells me his vision kaleidoscopes within the first five minutes of our relationship. Hmmm, relationship is over stating and I don’t mean to imply I have to know an optometrist six minutes before they kaleidoscope.
People often say ‘It’s the things I haven’t done that I most regret’. Ok, so no one has ever actually said that in my presence but this friend of a friends nannys uncle on her step fathers side says it happens all the time. What I regret most about today is that I put the voodoo jinx on myself by saying brain tumor and — wait, no, I didn’t make the tech laugh, she did that all on her own. Whew, no she’ll probably get the brain tumor. I think if I occasionally kaleidoscope for twenty minutes in a row I would just assume it was a brain tumor and never tell anyone, because silence is the only real weapon against voodoo jinxs. Well, silence or an informed electorate. Heh. Oh I crack me up. It’s an Easter Bunny/Sales manager thing. Yes, Virginia, there is an informed electorate. Yep. Still funny.

I think there’s cross canceling jinxs anyhow. I told anyone who’d listen that the eye exam was just to rule out something as simple as some physical problem with my eye. The eye doctor obviously thinks it’s as simple as a migraine cluster. The thing I know for sure is I’m not going to neurologist. I really think it’s in the Realm of ENT. Just the same I allowed strangers in lab coats to put weird shit in my eye and I bought a new pair of glasses because no matter how a receptionist dresses it up; that’s what going to an optometrist is for, new glasses. One of the techs explained one of the eight bazillion silly ass rules in this state (for all I know it’s federal, still …) Like any prescription there is an expiration, which, for glasses, is a year. She said by law they can’t just “refill” your old glasses prescription on the 366th day.

I was joyously argumentative with her. It’s possible she was very cute. It’s also possible she was a guy. Numbed and dilated. I came up with as many silly glasses prescription emergencies as plausible and then went about three past the plausibility border. She was very patient with me, or, perhaps, she was a service dog. It’d explain the panting.

So yeah, see something cool for me, or gross. I like gross too. Naughty, too, I suppose, send it to me in brail, or, you know, tomorrow when this wears off.